Finally, Love
by Anonymousanomaly57
Summary: A routine morning leads to Sherlock's confession of his love for John.


John and Sherlock sat at the kitchen table drinking their coffee. They did not know when this became a morning ritual, but it had. Sherlock cleared off a bit at the end of the table, away from his experimentation, to put down their mugs and a plate of whatever breakfast food happened to be around. This particular morning, John draped a sheet over Sherlock's many test tubes and beakers that were set up to determine the effects of heat on certain gruesome liquids for his newest case. Though sometimes ineffective due to stench or shape, John's sheet-method worked this morning and they sat enjoying each other's company.

After their coffee was ready and they dressed, they sat across from one another. What had started as polite morning conversation was now a full-blown argument on the effectiveness of the public education system.

"Not everyone is as special as you, Sherlock! Some of us do need common maths and literature to make a proper life for ourselves. We can't all be born with a perfect understanding of unimportance of planetary orbits!"

"Yes, but some of us don't _need_ planetary orbits. The children should choose what they wish to pursue in their educational careers. Why bore them with meaningless facts?"

"Because they need to grasp the wide universe around them! What if everyone only chose to take maths? We would have no cultured or knowledgeable youth and the banks would fast run out of available jobs."

"Statistics show that that is a highly improbable circumstance. Some amount of people would embark upon the _wonderful_ journey of astronomy or culture you so aptly speak of."

"Statistics also show that 99% of people think of you as an indifferent arse."

"An arse maybe, but a cultured one."

John smirked at the little victory he thought he won. Sherlock raised his hands in defeat, but his eyes shifted out of focus. He started to make the motions John now knew to associate with his mental palace and the latter chuckled. He glanced at the clock to see it was 8:36. The day had barely started and already an important conversation had been had and the head of a genius was without a doubt drawing astonishing conclusions.

While Sherlock raided his personal library for any obscure detail, John liked to do his own research. He had become fascinated with the detective's unique structure. He studied the strong cheekbones that defined a well-shaped countenance. Sherlock's though process seemed to be reflected in his face, as every feature lead to and fit well with the others. His effortlessly curled hair framed, for lack of a better term, the most interestingly beautiful face John had ever seen. To John however, Sherlock was not only aesthetically pleasing. The younger man had sense of confidence, enough to cover his untapped vulnerability which rarely made an appearance. Sherlock's notice of the little things and acceptance of the broader world befuddled many, but made perfect sense to John. They both just wanted sense out of the crazy everyday existence. Eventually, these feelings of admiration had led to more. John couldn't say when or what but he could feel a Something building between the two of them. His world had revolved around order until this wonderful man came and showed him a better way. Albeit, there was pain, but pain didn't go away. He was in it for the adventure, the thrill, the romantic life.

Wrapped up in his musings, John had not noticed the time passing. He again glanced at the wall clock to see the time flew to 8:51. John stood with the mugs, knowing Sherlock's mind palace could absorb hours upon hours, and prepared for his day. He wasn't due to work until 10 but this morning he fancied a walk in the park, as nature always called to him. He started to gather his papers and pull on his coat when a hand on his shoulder pulled him around. Sherlock stood behind him.

"John, I've been thinking."

"Now there's a surprise. Never would have anticipated that."

"John, I love you."

They stood in silence staring at one another. Sherlock's dazzling green eyes searched John's but he appeared to be dumbfounded. Grunting with discontent, Sherlock began to explain.

"I've never been in love, John. Hell, I've never had a proper friend. No one could accept me as you have. You let me in. My many atrocities have not scared you away, at least not yet. It's been months, John. We've lived together for months. I don't know how you feel, but these have been the best moments of my life. The loud ones and the quiet. I can't read people. Yes, I'm, as modestly as this can be said, a genius. I can figure out codes in half a second flat. People are another story, but I know that I sincerely care about you with emotions I've never felt before. So, yes, I love you." He took a pause, breathing in deeply, seeming to collect himself from the strong confession he made, the most vulnerable he's ever been.

"That's all. I can see my words have not had their desired effect. I was obviously wrong. You may go."

"Sorry, I may what? Why on earth would I want to do that?"

"Clearly you do not want me in the way I want you. I apologize to have caused such an awkward situation. I hardly think we need to b-"

But before Sherlock could finish his thought, John grabbed him around the neck and kissed him gently. A wave of relief broke over both of them as their only loves became closer than they'd ever been before. They stood kissing for seconds, years until a quiet sigh came from the doorway. They broke apart to see Mrs. Hudson standing at the flat's entrance.

"No no don't pay me any mind. I was going to ask if either of you needed anything from the shop, but I've had dreadful timing. I'll just be on my way."

"Mrs. Hudson-"

"Don't worry dear, I won't tell a soul. It has taken you long enough though." A blush spread across Sherlock's cheeks at what she said.

John released his hand from Sherlock's, neither remembering when they had held hands, and took two long strides to the door. He closed and locked it then leaned his back against it. They looked at each other across the room until Sherlock broke the silence.

"So that's what it's like."

"Having your snogging interrupted?"

"No. Well yes. But just snogging generally."

"You mean to tell me you've never kissed anyone? Not even in primary school?"

"It's never been something to cross my mind… And besides, it couldn't have been important back then."

John took the steps to be right in front of Sherlock and grasped his hand again.

"Is it important now?" John whispered, a smiling playing at the corners of his lips.

"There's never been anything more important."

This time Sherlock bent down and initiated a more passionate kiss. John's tongue begged for entrance to Sherlock's mouth and it complied. They stood exploring one other and John raised his hands to Sherlock's shirt collar.

"Don't you have to get to work?" Sherlock said as John undid his shirt one button at a time.

"I have more pressing issues that seek immediate attention."

John slid the open shirt off of Sherlock's shoulders and pulled his own sweater over his head. Sherlock gingerly placed his hands on John's chest and then wrapped around to his stomach, drawing lazy circles. John stood basking in the moment he had been waiting for. They reached an unspoken agreement to move to the nearest bedroom, John's. Together they fumbled, finally able to release the emotions that had been building for so long. In the bedroom, they kicked off their shoes and trousers before crawling into bed. Sherlock, used to dominance, tried to be on top, but John pushed him down. He trailed neat kisses all over the brunette's stomach until neither could handle their passion any longer. They pulled off their pants and John reached into his beside drawer for the necessary items.

"Big plans?"

"I've been waiting for you for a long time." As John said this, he knew it was true. He had grappled with his strong emotions, but knew they could only be one thing. The circumstances were finally perfect and he would make love to his real love.

"Ready?"

Sherlock gave a curt nod, his inhibitions revealing themselves. John kissed his cheek and stroked his hair until the tense muscles below him began to relax. Sherlock turn to place an eager kiss on John's lips then curled his leg around John's.

John entered Sherlock and felt a sensation he had never felt before. He had had sex before, but then it was lust and urgency. Now, as he rocked himself slowly, John felt what he knew was right: true love and pure ecstasy. Sherlock groaned at the new sensations. He grabbed John's thigh with one hand and his neck with the other. John held Sherlock at the waist and used his other hand to explore the beautiful face's body. It was well-sculpted and he felt the perfect muscles underneath flawless skin. They made serene and caring love for endless moments before both reaching their breaking point. They shuddered with release and lay in each other's arms, drifting to sleep.

When John awoke, afternoon light was streaming through the window. Green eyes stared at him.

"Hello." A husky voice whispered into his ear as a hand found his stomach. "I've enjoyed watching you sleep, but I have other things I'd like to be doing right this moment."

John tangled his hand in Sherlock's sleep flattened curls and kissed him softly. Sweet love engulfed the two and they continued their encouraged passion well into the night.


End file.
